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About Dallas

So we talk—me leanin’ on a lamppost, her smokin’ a fag. “Memory is a curse,” I say, nickin’ from the movie. She nods, like she gets it. Life’s beaten her down, but she’s still kickin’. I exagerate in my head—she’s a femme fatale, playin’ me like a fiddle. Ha! As if. Truth is, she’s just tryin’ to eat.

The Official Biography of Richard Pryor

His grandmother was the madam and his mother was a prostitute. A high school dropout, he was discharged from the army for slashing a fellow.

The downtown area—oh boy—it’s like one big happy mess. There's the old S. Monroe Ave., where couples share whispers and street corners listen. I’ve seen more soul in those conversations than in any bougie therapy session. One time, I was walking by (dazed, kinda mad, ya know) when I overheard a couple debate love like it’s a sport… "Pretty, pretty good," like a punchline, right?

Aaron Pryor